A Mother's Advice
by KazenoKizu44
Summary: Sango is falling under the burdens of guilt...can Miroku console her with stories about his own past?
1. A Mother's Advice

A/N - I am a big fan of Inuyasha, and as the series goes on and you see the predicament with Sango and Kohaku, I always find myself thinking that hers in the saddest story out of all the characters. So, I decided to write a sort of angsty fluff fic about it. Lemme know if you like it!

On the crowded floor of Kaede's hut, four grown people and two small demons were attempting to fall asleep. It had been a hectic day – Inuyasha and the gang had had to defeat yet another one of Naraku's hordes of Saimyoushou, and everyone was exhausted. But as the candles were blown out and they all began settling down into their blankets, there was one among them who remained as he was.

Miroku lay awake, listening to the rhythmic breathing of his comrades, and observing things from his beneficial spot in the corner of the room. He wasn't surprised that he wasn't tired after a full day of demon-slaying – on most nights he never _did _get much sleep anyway, nor did he need it. He was actually quite content to lie in the corner, facing in towards the room to muse on various topics, as well as watch his friends as they all tried to forget the horrors that haunted them and drift off into blissful, dreamless sleep – a luxury Miroku could never achieve.

As did most nights, this one passed without much incident at first. At one point Kagome began shivering under her blankets, the harsh winter air blowing into her back from a small crack under the flap that served as a hut door. Inuyasha's ears twitched at this movement, and he cracked open one eye. She kept shivering, and Miroku watched discreetly through lidded eyes as Inuyasha carefully picked the still-sleeping Kagome up and placed her in his lap as he sat on the floor. He adjusted the blankets over both of them and wrapped his arms around Kagome, who immediately smiled in her sleep and snuggled close into his chest. Within minutes the couple had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep, slight smiles on both their faces.

Miroku smirked from his spot in the corner. "_Those two are crazy about each other, and too damn hard-headed to admit it!" _He thought, chuckling as he thought of all the fighting and bickering they did during the day. But as he did, his thoughts began to wander. As strange and disguised as it was, there was no denying that there was a deep, mutual love between the two– and Miroku couldn't help but be jealous of that. Giving a small sigh, he looked over to where another of his comrades lay sleeping.

Sango…

How could he even begin to describe her? Outwardly, it wasn't very difficult. He had made it abundantly clear that he thought she had the most beautiful body he had ever seen (with quite severe, and usually painful, repercussions.) Indeed, his admiration of her smooth skin and well-rounded…assets had earned him his fair share of bruises in the past. But there was so much more to her than that, and Miroku noticed far more than Sango thought he did. For one thing, her eyes conveyed a deep, lasting pain that Miroku was all-too-familiar with, and every time he saw a sorrowful look in those eyes, he felt his own heart clench. But those same eyes showed such incredible warmth and love when she was laughing with her friends, or when she tucked Shippo in at night. The affect that those two small orbs of brown had on him never ceased to amaze Miroku.

She was nothing like the women he usually chased after – she was strong, and more than able to defend herself. She was smart and had a mind of her own. And she never, _ever_ succumbed to the charm that made most other women crazy for him - an outright refusal to bear his children was a phrase which was usually accompanied by a slap when coming from her. In short, she was unlike any woman Miroku had ever met – and easily the one he cared about the most.

He had tried to deny it for a long time, not wanting to truly believe that he was in love with her. What would have been the point? She didn't feel the same about him, that much he knew for sure. So what was the point of letting himself accept his true feelings if they wouldn't be returned? But as the weeks past, Miroku fell deeper and deeper – until he could no longer deny the undisputable truth. He was madly, head-over-heels in love with Sango.

As he was thinking this and watching the love of his life in her sleep, Miroku noticed something. She was whimpering. And not just once or twice, but every few seconds. She began tossing and turning, and Miroku could hear her mumbling now and then. Her brows were knit together in a frown as she thrashed, and he could now clearly hear her moaning, "No…don't…please remember…Kohaku!"

Miroku crawled over to her side and took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face with the other hand, softly running his fingers over her cheek. Her frown relaxed a bit, and she stopped thrashing long enough to maintain normal breathing for a few seconds – until she woke up.

Her eyes fluttered open and it took her a second to register that Miroku was crouching over her, holding her hand. Her eyes immediately widened once she understood, as did Miroku's when he saw her panic. He immediately let go of her hand and sat down.

"I-I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?"

Sango looked confused, but hesitantly answered, "No, it's just….why are you sitting next to me?"

"Well…you were sort of whimpering in your sleep. It looked like you were having a nightmare, so I just…wanted to….to soothe you, I suppose." He said, an embarrassed blush staining his cheeks. "Now I just feel like a baka. I'm sorry I woke you up."

Sango smiled gently up at him before sitting up herself. "It's alright, Miroku. You didn't wake me up and, to be honest, I'm glad I did anyway. That dream was..." She frowned at nothing in particular for a few moments before shaking her head and, with a sad smile, saying she needed some air.

Miroku watched sadly as she walked out of Kaede's hut and onto a nearby hill and sat down, leaning her back against a tree – a tree which he himself had also frequented on many a restless night.

He watched her for a few minutes, knowing she wanted to be alone, but wanting so badly to go comfort her. He knew the pain she was feeling right now, maybe better than anyone else could. And as he saw her form trembling in the cool night air, he knew it wasn't just because of the temperature, and decided enough time had passed to join her.

He slowly walked up behind her. "Want some company?" he asked hesitantly.

Sango gave a small jump and looked back at Miroku just long enough for him to see her tear-stained cheeks before turning back around and, quickly wiping her eyes, saying, "Sure."

She scooted over so he could lean against the tree trunk as well, and as he did he brought his knees into his chest, resting his chin on them. After a few moments of unbearable silence, he felt even more guilty for not being able to soothe Sango.

"You know…" he began hesitantly, looking down as Sango turned her head to look at him. "I don't have many memories of my mother. She died when I was about five. But, I _do_ remember that I used to have a lot of nightmares before she died, and when I would wake up in the middle of the night crying to her, she would always tell me the same thing. 'Tell me about the dream. Even though it might be sad or scary saying it out loud, once it leaves your mouth, it will leave your mind too.'" Miroku chuckled, and Sango smiled before he continued. "So I would tell her about the dreams, and…I don't know how, but she was always right. Once I said the dreams out loud, I always felt a lot better, and I would easily fall asleep again. Granted, those were a five-year-old's nightmares, but…it might still work." He looked up at her hesitantly, and she sighed, leaning her head back on the tree as she looked up at the full moon.

"He was dying." She said suddenly after a few moments of silence, as they both watched the moon light up the night sky. Sango sat up on her knees and took a deep breath. "Kohaku…he…was drowning, and I was just standing on the riverbank, doing nothing." Her voice began to crack as her eyes watered up. "I couldn't do anything! And I wanted to dive in and help him so badly it hurt, but I couldn't move…it was like something had made me paralyzed and forced me to watch my baby brother…die!" A tear rolled down her cheek as she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "I-I feel like that's how it is now. He's going to die, and there's nothing I can do about it."

By this time Miroku was kneeling next to Sango, at a loss of what to say. And he was caught off-guard when she suddenly turned to him, tears falling from her eyes, and said, "Do you think I could have saved him if I had tried harder?"

Something snapped inside Miroku at that moment. His breath hitched in his throat, and he felt his heart ache. He shook his head at Sango's question and said in barely a whisper. "No one could have saved him once Naraku was involved. He is the _only_ one to blame for this."

Sango barely had time to nod before Miroku had wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. She stiffened at first, surprised, but then returned the hug, burying her face in his shoulder. She began to tremble and weep softly, and all the while Miroku just held her and stroked her hair, saying it was going to be all right.

They stayed like that until Sango's breathing became steady and even, at which point she pulled away from Miroku, blushing. "I-I'm-"

Miroku put his hand up. "Don't you dare apologize." He said warningly, and Sango gave a small, embarrassed laugh, which turned into a shiver.

"We'd better get inside. It's getting cold out here." Miroku remarked, taking one last look at the full moon.

"That sounds good," Sango said, getting up. She too looked at the moon, and then at Miroku.

"Your mother was right, you know." She laughed, and arm-in-arm they walked back to the hut, knowing that whatever pain life had in store for them, they would get through it together.


	2. Raindrops and Perverts

Chapter 2

The next morning dawned muggy and dark as Inuyasha and co. followed his nose and set out for Naraku's latest hideout. Dark, billowing clouds hung low and heavy in the sky, as if ready to burst at any moment - yet the rain never came. Of course, this was disquieting to Inuyasha and Kagome, make no mistake. They were as confused as the rest of the group was as to why the weather wasn't following through on what it was indicating. But for Miroku and Sango, the clouds were especially irritating – they served as a reminder of the unsettled business they had with each other, which hung over them as heavily and precariously as the clouds above their heads.

Sango walked in silence, unsure of what to do or think about last night. After her embarrassing emotional breakdown (she blushed just thinking of it) Miroku had simply walked her back to the hut, and they had both lain down to sleep, at last tired enough to fall into the kind of deep sleep that Inuyasha and Kagome had been enjoying – though unfortunately without the same bodily togetherness. _Did I just think that?! _She asked herself, stunned at how perverted her mind could be. She blushed once more and stared straight ahead, a task that was becoming increasingly difficult as the man next to her continued to stare at her in what he thought was a subtle manner from the corner of his eye. She was so puzzled. Why hadn't he made some sort of perverted move on her last night? Rather than act like his usual hentai self, he had been the epitome of understanding and compassion.

Meanwhile, Miroku struggled to understand his own emotions. He couldn't forget how weak and vulnerable Sango had looked last night. It had torn him to pieces to see his strong, able, independent Sango weeping alone in the middle of the night. He knew now that he could no longer deny his love for her, and was ready to begin his life of inwardly desiring but never attaining that which he so desperately coveted – to be loved in return. Still, he wanted so badly to be helpful for her during those moments, to somehow make them better, even if it meant only sitting with her as a friend. He glanced over at her to find her own eyes locked intently on the back of his head for a second before they darted away. Usually when she stared at him while they were walking it meant she was mad at him for one thing or another and wouldn't tell him until he asked about it. He couldn't fathom what it was today – hadn't he been the epitome of understanding and compassion last night? He shook his head and chuckled, somewhat bitterly – no matter what he did (or didn't do, in this case), she would always see him as that perverted Houshi, and nothing more.

And so the day continued, as the four friends walked along, bogged down by the raindrops that refused to fall and the young adults who refused to talk.

The question is…when do the raindrops get too heavy to hold?

A/N: What do you think? I know I haven't updated in forever – I have been RIDICULOUSLY bogged down by work. But I just got the urge to write tonight and I didn't have much homework  Anyway, tell me what you think, if I should write another chapter, if it's too mushy, etc. In short – REVIEW!! Hungrily, FMF


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